Life Beyond The Bathroom
by Joywriter
Summary: A young woman is mysteriously led to the sewer plant where she discovers Adam. Rated for language.


**Life Beyond The Bathroom**

A storm was gathering overhead as I set out for a walk. It was going on 6pm, and after the newscast I had just watched, I was a little nervous about setting out on my own. The Jigsaw Killer had struck again.

I wandered around the neighbourhood, and for a reason I am still unsure of to this day, I began walking toward the outskirts of the city. There wasn't much to see out there, and the sewage plant kept most people at a distance. But I just kept going.

It took about an hour to get there, and I thought constantly about the killer on the loose. My feet seemed to have a mind of their own, and I kept going. The sky was a heavy gray, and thunder rumbled in the distance.

The pavement had given way to a dirt road as I approached the sewer plant, and even in the growing darkness, there was no mistaking what I saw.

Blood.

A large pool of blood.

Most of it was dry, but it hadn't been there long. A long trail of blood let to the side door of the sewer plant. But there was no body, and no one in sight.

I shuddered. _What on earth had happened here?_

Under normal circumstances, I would have turned around and left right then and there, but the pull of curiosity had gotten he best of me. I decided to investigate.

I opened the flimsy wooden door to the plant and the stench was overwhelming. I coughed and tried not to breathe too deeply.

A long corridor led deep into the plant, and a messy trail of blood stained the cement floor. There were small lights every ten feet or so high up on the wall, so I could somewhat see where I was going. The hallway twisted and turned and then it stopped, and it dropped away, revealing a corridor on a lower level. A metal ladder, also covered in blood, was attached to a cement wall. _Great, _I thought. _Underground in the sewer._

The walls were covered in hoses and pipes, and it was terribly dirty. A mouse scurried across my path. I continued to follow the trail of blood. Whoever crawled out of here had lost a lot of blood. And I made a mental note to check with the hospital to see if someone had been picked up near the sewer. The trail continued on in a maze of tunnels.

I screamed as I turned the next corner. A black man was laying flat on his back, obviously dead from the gunshot would in his chest. He hadn't been dead long, due to the fact that he was barely decomposed. Still, a dead body is disgusting all the same.

It was about this time that I gave my head a shake and scolded myself for letting my curiosity get the best if me. But as I looked past the body, there was a large door that put me to mind of a run down garage door. It was closed, and the trail of blood stopped. Whoever had escaped had crawled out from behind the door.

I slowly approached the door. A small handle was attached to the door halfway up with a strange lock. By the looks of it, the door wasn't locked, only closed. Noticing the track, I determined that the door must slide open. I continued to study the door. Did I really want to open the door? Did I really want to see what could be waiting on the other side?

My heart was racing wildly. My palms were sweaty. _What the fuck am I doing?_

I had come this far, and after several moments of contemplation, I decided to go for it. With a trembling hand, I reached for the handle. Grasping it firmly, I pulled.

The door didn't budge.

I pulled again, much harder this time, and as it slid along the track, it grinded loudly.

Pure blackness. And from the darkness, there instantly came a voice.

"Help me! Please help me!"

I could tell that it was a man. His shouts were clearly punctuated with crying.

I instinctively took a step back.

"No! Don't! Please help me!"

"I can't see anything," I said.

"Turn on the lights! On the wall. To your right," he said in the same shouting/crying voice.

I felt around on the inside wall and when I found the switch, I flipped it on.

All at once, blinding fluorescent lights illuminated the room. I squinted as my eyes adjusted, and when I was able to look into the room, I gasped.

Straight ahead of me was young man stretched out on the floor, reaching toward me. He was leaning over a corpse whose head was covered in blood and badly beaten. The man was crying, and never before as I ever seen such a look of desperation – and relief – on anyone's face.

The trail of blood that I had followed led into the room and made an arch shape from the man at the back of the room to the corner on my right. A thick chain was padlocked to the pipe, and there was a severed foot (yes, a foot!) inside a metal shackle at the end of the chain, which was padlocked as well. A rusty hacksaw lay discarded on the floor. A large pool of blood had dried on the floor in the center of the room.

As I approached the crying man, I noticed that he was chained to a pipe by his ankle as well. He was terribly dirty. His feet were black, as were his jeans. His shirt, which was still white only in a few places, was soaked in blood that had dried.

I reached my hand out to his as I sign of compassion. He was shaking terribly. His hand was cold and clammy to the touch, and his hands and arms were covered in blood. At this point, I wasn't worried about getting dirty. Seeing such a distressed human being broke my heart, and I didn't care.

He grabbed onto me with such force that I couldn't help but feel for him. This man needed me. I sat down next to him on the cleanest section of floor I could find, and he put his arms around me. His shouts had given way to immense weeping.

I put my arm around him.

"Calm down. I'll get you out of here," I said soothingly.

He said nothing, his body still wracked with sobs.

"Hey, don't worry," I said. "Look at me."

He sat up, tears streaming down his face. His eyes were red. He looked so weak.

"Look at me," I repeated.

I took his hands in mine. "You're going to be ok. I'll get you out of here."

He nodded and continued to cry. "I'm sorry. You have no idea how glad I am to see you."

We both stood up, and he sat down on the part of the pipe that ran parallel to the floor along the wall. I stood there, my jacket and pants covered in blood and dirt.

"What's your name?"

"Adam."

"I'm Rachel."

His eyes met mine, searching for salvation. "You promise you'll get me out of here?"

"You have my word."

"Did Larry send you?"

"Who's Larry?" I asked.

Adam pointed to the hacksaw by the door, but said nothing. He simply shook his head, as if the memory were too painful to express in words.

"Larry sawed his foot off?" I asked in disbelief, making sure I fully understood what he was trying to tell me.

"Yes," Adam confirmed.

"Why?"

He looked at me. "You want the short version or the long version?"

"I'll settle for the short version for now," I said.

His gaze fell to the floor.

"Jigsaw."

"The serial killer?" I asked, horrified at what I was hearing.

Adam nodded his head.

Tears came to my eyes. "Oh my god," I muttered.

"How did you find me?" Adam asked.

I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out a tissue. As I wiped my eyes, I said, "I was out for a walk and I don't know what made me come out here, but when I did, I saw a pool of blood by the road, and a trail of blood that led to the door of the plant. So I followed it and the trail led me here."

"So Larry got out?" Adam said, his voice perking up.

"Yeah, I guess so. There was no body out there."

"I hope he's okay," he said. "Where are we anyway?"

"Underground in the sewer," I said. "About a mile outside the city."

"Oh," was all Adam said in response.

"Right now we need to get you out of here," I said. "Is there a key for his chain around here?"

Adam pointed to the tub along the back wall.

"Jigsaw said the key is in there, but I can't get it. It went down the drain."

"Oh," I said.

I began looking around the room for anything I could try to pick the lock with.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

I explained what I was doing.

"What about –" Adam stopped short and gasped in pain.

"What's wrong," I asked, diverting my attention away from my search.

He turned around and showed me his right shoulder, revealing a large, nasty exit wound.

I gasped. "Forget picking the lock. I'm calling the ambulance."

I dug my cell phone from my pocket and explained the situation to the operator who took the call.

Once finished, I hung up and said to Adam, "You're going to be fine. The police and the ambulance are on the way."

"Rachel, will you come with me to the hospital?" Adam asked.

"Of course, if you want me to."

I glanced away for a moment, and then walked over to Adam.

"Are you hurt besides the gunshot wound?"

"Just need a shower, and very stressed," he said.

"How long have you been here?"

He shrugged. "Hell of I know. Feels like forever."

"Yes, I imagine so," I said. "When we go to the hospital, I'm going to check and see if this Larry guy is there."

"Oh, thank you," Adam said.

"Do you know his full name?"

"Dr. Lawrence Gordon. They should recognize the name. He works there."

"I'll come and find you once I find out if he's there or not."

He smiled at me, and I noticed how his eyes lit up with hope, with life. "You're an angel, Rachel."

"That's kind of you to say, but I'm not."

"You saved my life. You're my angel."

At that moment, I knew Adam and I would always share a bond.

Less then ten minutes later, I heard footsteps and voices approaching. I ran to the door.

"In here!" I shouted.

Four people rushed in. the two paramedics rushed to Adam. One of them was carrying a small battery powered saw. With a flick of the switch, it buzzed to life, and after only a few seconds, they had broke through the lock that secured the shackle around Adam's ankle, and the chain fell to the ground, lifeless. He stood up and moved beyond the small area he had been confined to, crying tears of gratitude with a smile on his face.

The two paramedics ushered him away, and I followed close behind.

One paramedic climbed the bloodstained ladder, and reached back down to help Adam up by holding onto his good arm. The second medic climbed up, then I did.

We rushed along the corridor and out into the rain. Night had fallen, and it was dark and cold.

Adam and one of the medics headed for in the back of the ambulance, and I got into the front with the driver. We set off to the hospital, leaving the police to begin their investigation.

I decided to go to the bathroom first thing when I got to the hospital. I got some stranger looks from the staff and those who were in the waiting area. I washed up as best I could before I headed to the reception area.

The woman behind the desk looked up over her glasses.

"Could you tell me if a Dr. Lawrence Gordon was admitted recently?"

She scanned the database.

"Yes, he's here."

"How long ago was he admitted?"

"Two days ago. He's in room 1612."

She scribbled the number on a piece of paper and handed it to me.

"It's on the fifth floor."

"Thank you."

I got on an elevator and began searching for Larry's room. After a few minutes, I found it. I knocked softly on the door.

"Hello?"

A young girl and a blond haired woman were sitting beside the bed; Larry lay in the bed, awake and in a pleasant mood. My eyes immediately darted to the outline the sheet made over his body. It was clear that he had only one foot.

I shuttered as I remembered the severed foot on the bathroom floor.

He smiled as I entered the room.

"Hello, can I help you?"

"I just came to check on you," I said. "And that I'm sorry about what happened to you…. in that room."

One of his eyebrows rose. "How do you know about that?" he asked.

"I found a pool of blood out by the sewer plant and I followed it. I found Adam."

"Oh, thank God," Larry said, obviously relieved. "Where is he now? Is he ok?"

"He's here in the hospital. He'll be fine," I explained.

"I passed out at the bottom of the ladder and I found it hard to remember anything. I don't know how I ended up here, but no one listened to me when I said there was someone else with me in the room. Add to that the fact that I didn't even know where I was, so I couldn't give directions."

"He'll be glad to know you're okay," I said. "I promised him I'd go right back to him once I found out if you were okay."

"Thank you for getting Adam out of there."

"No problem. It was nice meeting you, Dr. Gordon."

"Nice to meet you too…. I'm sorry, I don't know your name."

"Rachel," I said.

"Rachel," he repeated.

I waited in the waiting room, and Adam was released about an hour later to a room – on the fifth floor.

Once the nurses left and it was just he two of us, he sat up anxiously. He looked a million times better. He was clean, and his wound was dressed.

"So, did you find him?"

"Yes, he's here."

"Is he okay?"

"He's fine. His wife and daughter were with him."

"Where is he?"

"The next door down."

"You're kidding," he said.

"No, I'm serious."

"I've got to see him," Adam said as he pulled himself out of bed.

"Aren't you supposed to rest? You've been though a rough couple of days."

"Yeah, but this is more important."

Adam stopped in his tracks just as he reached the door. He turned around and looked at me.

"Rachel, I owe you my life. Thank you. I want to repay you. You just name what you want and you'll have it."

I shook my head. "The fact that you're alive is all the thanks I need."

Adam walked toward me, and we held each other. After several moments, he pulled away.

"Let's go see Larry."

"Hello, I've got someone here who wants to see you," I called into Larry's room.

I entered the room, Adam close behind.

"Adam," Larry breathed, as though he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

Adam began to cry. "Oh my God," he said through his tears. He rushed to Larry's side, and they shared a long and emotional embrace. His wife and daughter were crying as well.

"I'm sorry I shot you," Larry said.

"Don't worry about it. I'll be fine."

In a sudden moment of insight, Adam began telling Larry parts of their experience that I knew nothing of. I just listened intently.

"Zep is not Jigsaw, Larry."

Larry looked quizzically at Adam, yet said nothing.

"After you left, I began searching through his pockets for a key, and I found a tape recorder just like ours. He was a victim of Jigsaw's too."

"Oh my God, are you serious? They've got to find this sick bastard."

"Yeah, well, you missed the most terrifying part. After you left, the man in the middle of the room got up."

"What are you talking about?"

"He wasn't dead, Larry. That man was Jigsaw."

"What?" Larry screamed. He had become noticeably agitated at this news.

"Yes."

"Fuck!" said Larry, as he became more and more upset by the minute.

"Calm down, Larry. I cam identify him. We're going to get him."

I stayed with them as Adam and Larry recounted their journey from the beginning. It was obvious from the expression of Larry's wife and daughter's faces that this was the first time they were hearing the story as well. They had been held hostage as well.

I couldn't believe it.

Once their story was complete, I had to go for some fresh air. I excused myself, and was surprised when Adam followed me.

"Don't you want to visit with Larry?" I asked.

"Of course I do, but he has his family."

"Where's your family? I'm sure they'd be thrilled to see you."

"I have no family. I only have you."

I smiled, and, without saying a word, we walked outside.

As I looked at him in the soft glow of the street lamp, I began to notice little things about him. The curve of his jaw line. The fact that he was at least four inches shorter than me. The way the light caught his eyes, and how they jumped to life when he smiled.

My heart began to beat a little faster.

"How long ago was Larry admitted?" he asked.

"Two days."

He nodded, and blankly stared into the night.

"Two days," he muttered. "The longest two days of my life."

"I'm sorry, Adam," I said, placing my hand on his good shoulder.

He looked up at me. "I suppose you're going home now…"

"I don't have to go home right now," I said.

"I'm scared that he's going to some back for me. I don't know how that fucker feels about people rescuing his victims. He might come after you too. Who knows where he's lurking."

I could tell he was scared, and I didn't blame him. "I'll stay with you, Adam."

He smiled. "Thank you, Rachel."

Both Adam and Larry were released a week later. The media bombarded them both, and it was impossible to channel surf without seeing them giving an interview. At least three times a week, Larry and his family had dinner with Adam and myself. We celebrated their miraculous survival. Larry had been fitted with a prosthetic foot and had returned to work.

I had let Adam stay with me at my apartment, and amazingly, things were fairly quiet.

Until Adam checked the mail about a month later.

He screamed when he pulled out a silver recorder. He cried, "He knows where I am! He knows where I am! Fuck!"

I took it from him, and pressed the play button.

"Hello, Adam. I see you're doing nicely with your new life. I know you don't see me, but I see you. Do you appreciate your life? Why did it take the threat of death for you to open your eyes? Rachel has given you a second chance that you don't deserve. Appreciate it, nurture it, or you and I will meet again. The choice is yours."

Adam cried for a few moments.

"Let's take this to the police," I suggested. "Maybe they can find a fingerprint or something to point them to this guy."

"Yes, that's a good idea. Let's go."

Funny thing about that tape.

It didn't lead the cops to him. They had all Jigsaw's previous tapes in lockup. Another one wasn't going to help

On our way back from the police station, we stopped into Larry's and told him about the tape. Without saying a thing, Larry went out and checked his mail. Sure enough, there was a tape recorder.

He sat down and played the tape.

The eerie voice filled the room.

"Hello Dr. Gordon. You are alive today because of my good grace. I didn't have to help you out of your hell. You sacrificed much to save your family, and I trust that you have learned how lucky you are. I made an exception to help you. Why? Because I want you to know who I am. And, in time, you will know. You didn't follow the rules. But I am not a hard man to please. And since I heard every word you said while you were in that room, I decided to let you bend the rules. But I've got my eye on you, and just like I told Adam, appreciate your life. If you don't, you and I will meet again. The choice is yours."

It wasn't two weeks later when Adam answered a phone call from Larry, who said we had to get to the hospital immediately.

Adam barely had time to get out any words, and he simply hung up the phone and told me to get my purse.

We found Larry in his office. It was nearly ten at night, and things had slowed down considerably as the night shift moved in.

"What is it, Larry?" Adam asked.

He rose from his chair. "Come with me."

We walked behind him down the hall to a room. The doors were closed and the lights were off. He ushered us in quickly, and closed the door behind us.

"Larry, what's going -" Adam broke off mid-sentence. He stared at the man lying in the bed, and then glanced back to Larry. The man was holding a tape recorder.

"That's him," Adam said almost breathlessly. "That's him. What's he doing here?"

"He's a patient of mine. John Kramer. He came in earlier today for a check up, and I thought he went home."

"He's a patient of yours? The fucker has been right under your nose?"

Larry shook his head. "Yes."

"Is he dead?"

"Yeah, he's dead. I judge he's been gone for at least five hours."

"Have you played the tape?" Adam asked.

"No, I wanted you to be here."

Larry took the tape from John's hand and hit the play button.

That same haunting voice echoed off the walls.

"Hello, Dr, Gordon. I told you that I wanted you to know who I am. And here I am. My name is John Kramer. I am a cancer patient. I've been under your care for longer than I care to remember, and yet you don't even know who I am. Not only that, but you gave me no hope of survival. The one person I thought I could count on let me down, and it cost me my life. I don't care what you do with my body, as it is a prison that I will soon be rid of. It's one thing to die suddenly, it's quite another to feel death's presence everyday, waiting, wondering when the moment will come. Wouldn't you agree that it is better to lose your foot and live that to remain complete and die? And, by the way, just because I am gone doesn't mean you should let your guard down. I have ways of coming back for you. The choice is yours. It has always been yours."

Adam and Larry stared at each other. Adam was vibrating with anger, tears streaming down his face. Larry was upset as well, muttering something about the fact that he had been so blind.

A month after that discovery at the hospital, the news about the end of the Jigsaw Killer began to die down. Adam had permanently moved in to my apartment, and had taken on a photography job with the local paper. One night while walking with Adam through the park at sunset, my mind was reeling. I recalled the night he told me that he owed his life to me, and that anything I wanted as a reward would be mine. I had spent many nights lying awake, thinking about it, and I had finally decided on what I wanted.

The only problem was that it was big.

Adam noticed that I was distracted, and we sat down on a bench.

"What's the matter?"

I took a deep breath. "You remember how you told me you'd give me anything I wanted for having rescued you from that room?"

"Of course."

"Well, I've decided what I want."

"Great! What is it?"

The fading light caught in his eyes, and I knew that I had never been surer of anything in my life.

"You."

He sat and said nothing for a moment. "Me? I don't understand."

"I want to be with you. From this moment until forever."

He smiled.

"Will you marry me, Adam?"

He picked me up in his arms and we spun around in a celebratory dance as the sun set in the distance.

"Absolutely."

We were married less than three weeks later in a small ceremony in the park.

Larry was Adam's best man. Diana was the flower girl, and Allison was my matron of honor. The wedding made front page of the paper, as it was a sort of closure on Adam and Larry's narrow escape from the room, and only one of a few happy endings to Jigsaw's killing rampage.

As for Adam and I, life couldn't be better. The Gordon family had become our best friends, and we spent a lot of time together, celebrating the fact that not only were we all alive, but that we appreciated it with renewed understanding.

Never more did I understand the miracle of life until one night at a party we had with the Gordon's. Even Adam didn't know the surprise that I had planned. I was bursting with joy as I stood up, prepared to shed light on the fact that life would never be the same.

I knew I was beaming as I placed my hand on my stomach and looked to Adam in wonder.

"It's a girl."


End file.
